THE ROOKIE driver ✔

Prologe: The call

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"Ahh no fuck this" Matteo said the moment his eyes opened.

It was the morning after Matteo Rossi's stunning Formula 2 victory at Autodromo Nazionale Monza, and the euphoria from his win was still hanging in the air of his small but cozy apartment—and not just because he hadn't opened a window yet. Matteo, just 18, had snagged first place in a thrilling race, completing a wild three-race winning streak. The party that followed? Absolutely unforgettable. Now, though, the after-effects of one too many champagne toasts and way too little sleep were coming in hot, and Matteo was feeling every bit of it.

Matteo's small apartment, which he shared with his best friend and partner-in-crime, Luca Marino, was less of a home and more of a shrine to their racing obsession—plus a healthy dose of post-party mayhem. The place was practically a racetrack for pizza boxes and champagne bottles, scattered like the aftermath of a victory lap. Matteo, still half-asleep and nursing the world's most persistent hangover, stumbled around like a zombie on wheels, determined to find water in this labyrinth of leftovers.

He and Luca met when they were eight, at a karting event, where they spent most of their time glaring at each other like rival superheroes. But Over time, their competition turned into friendship. once they grew older Luca discovered he was more into fixing cars than driving them, so he hung up his helmet and picked up a wrench. Despite their different roads, they were inseparable.

By the time they turned 18, the dynamic duo moved in together in Monza, Italy, right next to the legendary Autodromo Nazionale Monza. Luca, despite his very French last name and love for croissants, found work at a nearby mechanic shop where he tuned engines and secretly daydreamed about Formula 1 glory. Meanwhile, Matteo was tearing up the Formula 3 and soon after formula 2 circuits like a speed demon with a point to prove.

Through all of Matteo's victories and Luca's masterful mechanical upgrades, they made a pact: if Matteo ever got into Formula 1, Luca would be right there by his side, his trusty mechanic. Their lives were a perfect blend of grease-stained hands and champagne-soaked celebrations, sprinkled with late-night chats about racing strategies and whatever brilliant idea Luca cooked up next. Together, they were unstoppable—or, at the very least, hilariously chaotic.

Suddenly Matteo's phone buzzed insistently on the kitchen counter, cutting through the haze of his hangover and snap him out of his thoughts. Matteo squinted at the screen and saw an unfamiliar number.

"Hello?" Matteo's voice was raspy and uneven.

"Matteo Rossi?" A deep voice was here'd fro the other line, it was clear and commanding, a stark contrast to Matteo's disheveled state.

"Yes, this is Matteo," he replied, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the previous night.

"Hello, Matteo, this is Mario de Luca. first of I want to congratulate you on your recent victories," Mario began, his tone carrying a note of genuine admiration. "I'm calling with some important news. Scuderia Stellar Racing has been closely watching your performance, and we'd like to offer you a seat for the upcoming Formula 1 season."

The words hit Matteo like a jolt of adrenaline, cutting through his hangover-induced fog. Mario De Luca was the team principal of Scuderia Stellar Racing, a name that carried significant weight in the world of motorsport. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. His mind raced with disbelief and joy as he struggled to grasp the significance of the offer.

"Are you serious?" Matteo's voice trembled with a mix of excitement and disbelief.

"Absolutely," Mario confirmed. "We've seen how you've dominated the track, and we're confident you have what it takes to excel in Formula 1. We'll send over the official details soon, but I wanted you to hear it from me directly."